


Family Matters

by GrumpyJenn



Series: Real Person FICTION - That Last is Important [15]
Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 00:50:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpyJenn/pseuds/GrumpyJenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes family - real or otherwise - is what it takes to clear up misunderstandings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Matters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [areyoumarriedriver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyoumarriedriver/gifts), [SnubNosedSilhouette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnubNosedSilhouette/gifts), [Radiolaria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Radiolaria/gifts), [Amie33](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amie33/gifts).



> Putting the Fiction in Real Person Fiction since 2012
> 
> Rated T for language

Alex was terribly lonely, and terribly sad.

 _Divorce final_ , she thought glumly as she disembarked the aeroplane at Heathrow, _Salome in school for another few weeks, might as well go home to mum._

And dad and sis. And her _other_ dad, Arthur, bless him, who insisted on having ‘Melody’ over for tea. Tomorrow, he had said, no need to come straight off the plane. Besides, there were almost certainly others she’d rather see more when she got home, he’d said in a knowing tone, and she hadn’t the emotional energy to correct him. She was most certainly _not_ thinking of Matt, she told herself, of course not. No more than any of the rest of her _Who_ friends.

Not much anyway.

But when she saw the screaming headline at the newsstand, big bold type asking ‘WHO is Matt Smith Seeing Again?’ and the picture of Matt and Daisy snogging for all they were worth, well... she couldn’t help the little pang of disappointment. She hadn’t time nor energy to maintain the feeling though, or analyse it, because there was customs to go through, and that occupied her attention for awhile.

After she was through customs, and watching the luggage carrel for her bag, she felt a large warm hand close around her elbow, and an equally warm voice said reproachfully, “Why didn’t you phone or text me, Kingston? I had to find out you were coming from Darvill.” _Why did I have to find out from Darvill, Alex?_ he thought. _And why was he so cagey about your reasons for being here?_

“Sorry, darling,” Alex said as breezily as she could manage, turning to look at Matt. Then her mouth dropped open and she just stared in astonishment. And not a little shock, because... “Oh, Matt, your hair, darling. What...?”

Matt ran a hand self-consciously over his head. “For a part,” he said ruefully. “Off to Detroit Tuesday next for filming.” He held very still, staring into her eyes as Alex reached up to stroke one fingertip down the long scar on one side of his scalp. She gave him a questioning look, and it took him a moment before he could speak. “Nursery accident,” he said, and grasped her wrist, pulling it away from his head. _Shit_ , he thought, _we’re in public; quit_ staring _at her you fool!_ “Right, well. Where can I take you, Kingston? Your parents’ place? My flat?”

“The usual hotel, please, darling,” Alex said gratefully, and pulled her wrist from his grip, sliding her hand down to hold his. He looked down at her. _God, she looks so sad,_ he thought, and felt himself choke up.

“Are you sure?” He asked her in a low tone, and she nodded, eyes filling. Matt sighed. “All right. But I’m buying you a proper tea. Aeroplane food...” He shuddered theatrically, and was rewarded by a soft chuckle. Good. “Come on then,” he said, smiling down at her, and hailed a cab.

Later, at the hotel where Alex stayed when she was in London, Matt phoned down for a proper tea from room service. Alex smiled gratefully at him as he tipped the delivery boy. _God, the hair_ , she thought, _he doesn’t look like himself at all, he’s all ears and cheekbones and chin_. He turned to find her staring and just stopped in his tracks.

 _She looks so sad,_ he thought again, and he shook his head as though to clear it. Very carefully, he poured her a cup of tea, preparing it just how she liked it, and brought the steaming cup to her, sitting down beside her on the little sofa at the end of the room’s bed. “Now then,” he said softly, handing her the cup, “Tell me what’s got you so sad.”

“It’s silly,” Alex said, shaking her head, eyes filling again. “Florian and I’ve been separated for years, and I knew...” her voice faded and then strengthened, though it was high and strained. “I knew it would be hard, but when the divorce was final I... oh god, Matt, I--” She lowered her face into one hand and Matt made a low noise in the back of his throat. He took the teacup from her shaking hand and put it safely on a table, then wrapped his arms around Alex and held her as she cried.

Matt patted Alex’s back and stroked long fingers through her hair, murmuring reassurances over and over, and eventually the sobs subsided. She nestled her head into his chest and sniffled. “I’m sorry.”

“No need,” he said, and his arms tightened around her.

“But surely you’ve other places to be. More important things to do than listen to one daft old woman cry.” She raised her head to look at him, and he just couldn’t help himself.

He kissed her.

It was not gentle.

This was a bruising and desperate kiss, and all Matt could think was _waited so long,_ wanted _so long_ , as tongues tangled and teeth nipped. He groaned her name.

Gasping, Alex pulled away. “Oh god,” she said, looking up at him in horror, “What have you done? What have _we_ done?”

It was then that Matt made a fatal mistake. He laughed.

“Alex,” he said in a low voice that made her tremble even as she felt even more ashamed, “Don’t be silly. We’ve done nothing wrong.” He gave her a cheeky grin, but it drained off his face as he noticed she wasn’t joining him in either laugh or smile. She was wringing her hands, refusing to look him in the face, alternating saying over and over that she was sorry, and asking how he could _do_ this to Daisy, to Alex herself, and then back to apologies again. Matt got the gist of it.

 _She thinks I would._.. Coherent thought dissipated in a wave of _hurt_ and not a little anger; _how could she think I’d_... “I haven’t dated Daisy in months.” Matt said it quietly, almost as if he was talking to himself, but his voice grew louder and more pain-filled as he went on. “I haven’t even laid eyes on her in weeks. And you think--” he choked on the hurt and the anger; how _could_ she think... “You think that I would put you in the position of the other woman, _knowing_ your history?” His voice was cracking every few words now. “That I’m the sort of a man who would break a woman’s heart for the sake of a _fuck_ with another?” Alex was shaking her head now, her mouth forming the word _no_ over and over again, but Matt was too heartsick, too hurt to listen. He dragged a hand over his scalp, wincing when he felt the stubble, and forced himself to calm down. Looking away from the horrified guilt in Alex’s green eyes, he spoke again, softly.

“I’m sorry, Alex. I have to go, before I... I have to go. If you decide to trust me, you know where to find me.” Matt found that his hands were shaking with the effort of keeping himself calm, and he swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. “I love you, Alex. I always have.” The last word ended on a sob, and he turned away and left, quietly letting the door close behind him.

And Alex slid off the little sofa onto the floor.

 

-/-

 

“You, my dear little brother,” Laura was saying the following morning at breakfast, “Are very sweet, and very stupid.”

Matt glared at her. All right, she had taken him in, no questions asked, when he had pounded on her door at midnight. And she had put his pissed arse to bed and fed him and given him hangover remedy, and finally listened to his story. But did that give her the right to call him names?

He sighed. It did.

“Lor,” He could feel himself whinging like a child. “Lor, she as much as accused me of--”

“I know,” his sister interrupted, “And that’s what makes you stupid.” Her expression softened. He _was_ stupid where women were concerned, but she was willing to bet that was why they liked him so much, Alex especially. It gave him a certain sweet and clueless charm. “Look here, Matt. You said it to her yourself; you _know_ her history, you know how fragile she is when it comes to this. So why didn’t you take it into account?”

“But I...” Matt began hotly, and then thought about it for a moment. “Oh. Well, shit.”

Laura nodded. “Exactly. From her perspective, you were _you_ \- sweet, kind, flirty Matt - you brought her home, listened to her as a good friend should. Then you kissed her, laughed at her, and as soon as things got difficult, you left.” Matt winced. Put that way... “And on top of the rest of it,” his sister was saying, “With that hair - or lack of it, rather - the top of your head probably feels like Florian’s.”

“How can I fix it?” His voice was a whisper.

Laura shrugged. “Tell her how you feel. She’s not stupid; she’s just scared.”

Matt nodded once, consideringly, and left Laura’s flat after kissing her on the cheek. “Thanks, Lor.”

“Anytime, little brother.”

 

-/-

 

Arthur was shaking his head at Alex over scones. “You overreacted in a big way, Alex,” he said. “Matt would never, _ever_ do anything to hurt you. Or any woman. Have you met his mum or his sister? They’d box his ears.”

“But I saw a picture of him kissing Daisy. Oh, it was one of those stupid rags at Heathrow, but still, it was there in black and white. What are you doing?” Arthur was looking for something, digging through piles of paper in his flat.

“This one?” he asked, holding up a tabloid sheet, and Alex glanced at it and nodded, wincing. He walked across the room to take her hands in his, holding up the paper. “Alex, the headline is new, and the text. But that picture is almost two years old. Look at his hair, for god’s sake!”

Alex looked.

God, the hair was... it was _Wedding of River Song_ -length.

“But Arthur, he didn't explain, he just _walked out._ ” And oh god, that had _hurt_ , Matt walking out. She’d never thought he of all people would just leave like that... but Arthur was talking.

“Alex, do you have any idea how much he cares for you? How _long_ he’s cared for you?” Arthur was indignant. “That wasn’t Matt walking out; that was Matt retreating before he said something in anger and hurt that he couldn’t take back.”

“How can I fix it?” Her voice was a whisper.

Arthur shrugged. “He loves you; just let him show you how much.”

Alex nodded once, consideringly, and left Arthur’s flat after kissing him on the cheek. “Thanks, ‘Dad’.”

“Anytime, Melody.”

 

-/-

 

Matt opened his door, intending to go to Alex’s room and apologise, beg for forgiveness, whatever it took for her to understand how he felt. But she was standing there, one hand poised to knock. She smiled at him, almost shyly.

“I’m sorry.”

They said it at the same time, and smiled.

“Will you stay?” Matt asked, and held out one hand.

“As long as you’ll have me,” Alex breathed, and took it.

 

 


End file.
